Are You Wholly Committed?

My two-year-old just got his first real bed. Out went the hedgehogs, and in came Mickey Mouse. Out went “He’s down for the night,” and in came “He got out of bed again.” Out went the baby, and in strolled the boy.

My husband and I have five kids, ranging from the aforementioned two-year-old to a high-school senior. We have decided that we are done; no more babies for us. So when my son got his Mickey Mouse bed, I didn’t just disassemble his well-worn crib and store it in my attic—I sold it, ridding myself of it entirely. We have no more need for a crib. I won’t be saving his clothes or toys for hand-me-downs. Our baby days are over.

My seventeen-year-old is in a totally different stage of life. High school is ending, adulthood is lurking. He is feeling the pressure to answer that high-stakes question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” He has decided to try his hand at culinary arts: baking, to be specific. When he decided to give this a shot, he spent some of his own money on baking equipment—a stand mixer, kitchen scale, rolling pin—so he can practice at home. Having chosen his next steps, he made a personal investment toward his goal. He made his commitment and solidified it by taking a demonstrable move in that direction. Color me proud.

Recently, I was reading in the Old Testament about Elijah and Elisha. The Bible tells us that the friendship between these two men with confusingly similar names began in an unusual way. I’ll let you read it:

So Elijah went from there and found Elisha […]. He was plowing with twelve yoke of oxen […]. Elijah went up to him and threw his cloak around him. Elisha then left his oxen and ran after Elijah. “Let me kiss my father and mother goodbye,” he said, “and then I will come with you.” […] So Elisha left him and went back. He took his yoke of oxen and slaughtered them. He burned the plowing equipment to cook the meat and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then he set out to follow Elijah and became his servant.” (1 Kings 19:19-21)

Elijah, a prophet of God, summoned Elisha, a farmer, by throwing his coat on him. (I’m sure there is cultural significance there, but I haven’t researched it.) Elisha (the farmer) agreed to follow Elijah (the prophet) with only one stipulation: he wanted to go back home to say goodbye to his parents. While Elisha was home saying his goodbyes, he had a going-away party where he served his own oxen (which he slaughtered) that had been cooked over his own plow equipment (which he set on fire).

Elisha was all in. His farming days were over. He had no need for oxen, so he slaughtered them. He had no need for farming equipment, so he turned it into firewood. He literally set fire to the old so he could bring in the new.

Being summoned by Elijah was a game changer. Like being called up to the big leagues, this was Elisha’s time to step up or bow out. Elisha made it look easy. Without hesitation, and with only one reasonable condition, he agreed to leave everything behind. He blindly followed Elijah into a mentoring relationship that lasted until the day Elijah was taken up into heaven.

There is no shortage of biblical accounts of people who made a clear and clean break from who they were in order to become who they became. Abram, the wealthy shepherd, became Abraham, the father of many nations. Saul, the persecutor, became Paul, the evangelist. Simon, the fisherman, became Peter, the apostle. Their stories are anything but wishy-washy.

There is a lesson to be gleaned from these narratives: commitment and action are two sides of the same coin. Commitment drives action and action proves commitment.

For someone who needs to wholly commit to their marriage, it might mean deleting a phone number or unfriending a contact. For someone who needs to wholly commit to their mental health, it might mean keeping the counseling appointment or getting on the medication. For someone who needs to wholly commit to being clean and sober, it might mean coming out of the shadows and revealing the hidden shame. For someone who needs to wholly commit to their financial freedom, it might mean cutting up your credit card or answering the call from the collection agency.

Essentially, it’s about taking the meaningful step that turns the object at rest into an object in motion. Do I recommend we stomp about like bulls in china shops, tearing around recklessly without care or reflection? Nope. I am simply suggesting it might be time to trade in tepid and timid for bold and purposeful.

It’s time to stop the hesitant toe-dipping and discouraged feet-dragging. For you, it might be something huge like slaughtering your ox or burning your plow. It could also be something small like buying a stand mixer. Whatever that action is, let’s take it. Feeble as it may be, that first footstep in the right direction both demonstrates and drives our commitment to success and fullness.

Amy Beaulieu lives in Michigan with her husband and four (soon to be five!) children. She is a lover of music, language, and all things thought-provoking. She is a witness and testimony to God’s redemptive grace.

Photograph © Clem Onojeghuo, used with permission